


Only The Best Touches This Body

by hpdm4ever, MessiFangirl (hpdm4ever)



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, cressiweek2k17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 21:39:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12284880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/pseuds/hpdm4ever, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/pseuds/MessiFangirl
Summary: "Do you want to come back to my place for a drink?" Cristiano asks after dinner. And when Leo hesitates, finger slowly circling the rim of his wine glass, Cristiano's smile softens. "Just a drink," he clarifies, "if you want. But I'm not ready for tonight to end yet, and I thought you might feel the same."The truth is, Leo does feel the same.





	Only The Best Touches This Body

**Author's Note:**

  * For [prompt_fills](https://archiveofourown.org/users/prompt_fills/gifts), [kkslover9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kkslover9/gifts), [Guessmysoul](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guessmysoul/gifts), [MADR1D1SMO](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MADR1D1SMO/gifts), [yulin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yulin/gifts), [Jang_Hanae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jang_Hanae/gifts), [Messi10_Neymar11](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Messi10_Neymar11/gifts), [keep_it_fresh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keep_it_fresh/gifts), [mrsmessi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsmessi/gifts), [detodores (chasingnukes)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasingnukes/gifts).



> For everyone who is helping make Cressi Week 2017 such a success! Thank you for all of your wonderful contributions :)
> 
> Inspired by yulin pointing out those silly commercials of Cristiano in bed with giant CR7 blankets.

"Do you want to come back to my place for a drink?" Cristiano asks after dinner. And when Leo hesitates, finger slowly circling the rim of his wine glass, Cristiano's smile softens. "Just a drink," he clarifies, "if you want. But I'm not ready for tonight to end yet, and I thought you might feel the same."

The truth is, Leo does feel the same.

He's enjoyed their date--enjoyed it more than he even thought possible. Cristiano's been charming. He's made Leo feel entirely at ease all evening, talking about anything and everything, somehow managing to keep the conversation flowing for the last three hours. Considering it's the third time they've been out to dinner in the last few weeks, even with their busy schedules, Leo's impressed. And if Cristiano says he's offering just a drink, well, Leo has no doubts that the other man will be a perfect gentleman if Leo agrees.

"Then, yes," Leo says, feeling a burst of warmth spread through him as Cristiano beams in response. "I'd like that very much." He’s not really looking forward to going back to his hotel room. It’s the only downside to coming to Madrid. And Leo likes Cristiano… likes being with him…

He’s not ready for the night to be over either.

Cristiano waves over the waiter and then asks for the car to be brought around. The bill goes on his tab, despite Leo’s protests. “I asked you out,” Cristiano says, waggling his finger when Leo pulls out his wallet. “Besides, this is my city—my favorite place.” He shrugs his sport jacket on, adjusting his cuffs until he’s satisfied. “You can pay next time we’re in Barcelona, no?”

Leo grumbles but pockets his wallet. “I’ll hold you to that,” he insists, frowning slightly. But inside he’s delighted that Cristiano’s already thinking about going out again. Somehow that makes it all worth it. Even as the staff are sneaking them out the back entrance into a dingy alley to avoid the paparazzi, Leo’s still floating on air. He balks a little at the Lamborghini that Cristiano ushers him into, but inside it’s so nice that Leo forgets his worries.

And Cristiano’s a careful driver, no matter what his flashy car may indicate. They slide out into traffic without trouble, cruising through the streets of Madrid at a leisurely pace. Leo’s smiling at the bright lights decorating the buildings when he feels Cristiano’s fingers cautiously sliding across his thigh to touch his hand. Leo’s cheeks grow pink, and despite the darkness of the car he can see his smile grow wider in the reflection of the window. He doesn’t look at Cristiano, but he links their fingers together, the burst of warmth inside of him growing even larger.

The rest of the ride is spent that way, Cristiano’s fingers tangled with Leo’s, thumb occasionally stroking over the top of Leo’s hand. They don’t speak, and the music Cristiano’s turned on simply plays on quietly in the background. It’s some type of samba, some song that belongs inside a dance club and shouldn’t fit the mood at all.

But Leo can’t remember the last time he’s been so content.

When they reach Cristiano’s home, Cristiano finally lets go of Leo’s hand so that they can get out of the car. Leo immediately misses his touch, but as they walk up to the front door, Leo feels a hand hovering at the small of his back, and suddenly he’s not so cold.

“Watch the step,” Cristiano murmurs, his other hand going to Leo’s elbow as they reach the door. “It’s always a little slippery. I’ve been meaning to have it replaced.”

Leo nods, distracted by Cristiano’s breath brushing against the back of his neck. Or maybe about how this *is* the third date and he’s a little nervous about going inside. Perhaps that’s why he ends up slipping anyway, despite Cristiano’s warnings. And for a quick second, Leo thinks he’s going to smash his face against the ground.

Except, of course, Cristiano’s got him.

“What did I just say?” Cristiano laughs, holding Leo against him securely. The hands that were on his back and elbow are now tightly holding Leo’s stomach, arms wrapped around Leo’s waist to ensure he doesn’t fall. They stand there for a minute, breath puffing into the chilly evening air. "Where's your head at, hmm?"

Leo has no answer, and eventually, Cristiano reaches around him to push the door open. “Careful,” he admonishes, one arm still wrapped around Leo. This time, Leo is, and they enter Cristiano’s home, both immediately feeling the cozy warmth embrace them. “Mmmm,” Cristiano says, closing the door behind them and shaking himself a little. "Much better."

Then he turns and smiles at Leo.

Cristiano’s collar is a little crooked, and his nose is a bit red from the cold. And maybe his hair needs to be combed a little.

But his smile is still so…

Leo smiles back, his nerves disappearing, hoping his blush isn’t as evident as it was in the car. Unfortunately, with his slip on the step, it’s probably only reappeared stronger than ever. But Cristiano's known him long enough to know that he flushes easily, so maybe he's just used to it.

In any case, if Cristiano notices his embarrassment, he’s kind enough not to mention it.

“I promised you a drink,” Cristiano announces, tossing his jacket onto the table by the door and then wiggling his eyebrows. He laughs as if he’s amused by his own actions, motioning for Leo to follow him. “I just got something you might like,” he calls over his shoulder, disappearing down the hallway.

Leo adds his own jacket to Cristiano’s and then follows slowly, taking his time, looking around curiously. He realizes he’s never been in Cristiano’s house, and it’s nothing like he expected. He’s seen photographs of course, and ads here and there, but everything’s always been so clean and cold and modern. And yet, there are piles of magazines strewn about, shoes carelessly thrown in the corner, plates still in the sink. A blanket is crumbled into a ball on the couch and there’s a half-full mug on the coffee table.

There's even a dirty football by the door to the backyard, as if Cristiano had left it there only temporarily but then not had time to return to it. Despite the pretty design and sleek furniture, Cristiano’s home looks lived in, and Leo likes that. He also likes… well, he likes that it’s clear Cristiano didn’t go to dinner planning on bringing Leo back afterward.

Leo catches up to Cristiano, admiring the sight of the other man squatting gracefully down to look into a small refrigerator. If Leo had done that he would have looked like he was going to tip over, but Cristiano looks entirely at ease. There’s apparently a slight dilemma as Leo can hear the clinking of bottles and some mutters about different alcohol before Cristiano rises, holding a bottle of champagne.

“What do you think? Hmmm,” Cristiano asks, setting the bottle down on the bar. He ducks down again and reappears with two flutes, the glass sparkling in the light. “A little birdie told me you really like champagne,” he says smirking.

Leo stands there, shifting his weight. If that champagne is the kind he thinks it is, it’s entirely too much for just an after-dinner drink. “Who told you that?” he asks, although he thinks he already knows. He jumps as Cristiano pops open the bottle and begins to pour. “Why were you talking about me?”

Cristiano’s carefully making sure the flutes overflow, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth. “I just wanted to make sure I had something you’d like,” he says, concentrating. In fact, he’s concentrating so hard that he misses Leo walking over to him. He finishes pouring and sets the bottle down, looking up to say something else. “Oh, what do you think?”

Leo’s staring up at him, unable to keep the grin off his face. “How cute are you?” Leo murmurs, taking one of the flutes from the bar. He’s flattered that Cristiano’s made such an effort. Flattered and flushed. “What should we toast to?” he asks, licking his lips. He finds it incredibly hard to look away from Cristiano, feeling a sudden wave of desire wash over him. “Football? Peace? Us?” he asks.

Cristiano’s gaze falls on Leo’s mouth for a second, lingering on those shiny lips before he jerks his eyes up to meet Leo’s. “Whatever you want,” he says, picking up his flute. He holds it out towards Leo’s touching the glass together gently. “But if you don't mind, let's forget about everything else for awhile. Let's drink to us.”

Leo repeats, “To us,” taking a sip of the fizzy champagne. It’s sweet and smooth and exactly what Leo likes. It’s also not the easiest thing to get, and knowing Cristiano, he probably had to trade in quite a few favors to get his hands on it. “It’s good,” Leo murmurs, tasting the bubbles on his tongue. He licks his lips again, tilting his head back to try to catch his breath.

But it’s hard. It’s so hard.

Especially when he knows Cristiano’s been talking to his friends.

Especially when Cristiano’s made such an effort.

And especially, when Cristiano’s soft smile comes back.

“Cristiano,” Leo says, taking another sip. The bubbles are on his tongue again and he hasn’t had nearly enough for him to feel tipsy, but his mind is buzzing. He takes a third sip and then a fourth, setting the half-full glass down on the bar. "I think," he says, pausing as he gathers his courage.

Cristiano’s paused mid-sip, looking curiously at Leo. “Yes? What’s wrong? It tastes okay, doesn’t it?” He looks down at the glass and then holds it up in the light like he's trying to see if it's discolored or something. "I don't drink this a lot so you have to tell me if it's off."

Leo smiles and reaches out takes the flute from his hand, their fingers brushing together for a second and setting his skin on fire. He sets the glass onto the bar beside the other. And then he takes a step forward into Cristiano’s space. “No, it's not that. It's perfect. It's just... What if I want more than just a drink?” he asks, spurred on by Cristiano's kind smile.

Cristiano’s hands settle on his hips. He’s looking down at Leo like he can’t believe his luck and his thumbs stroke against the fabric of Leo’s shirt. “Didn’t I say before?” he asks, leaning down to hover over Leo’s mouth. “Whatever you want,” he whispers, meeting Leo’s gaze to make sure he’s sure.

But Leo’s sure.

Their first kiss tastes like champagne, sweet and tart at the same time, and Leo groans as he links his hands behind Cristiano’s neck. It’s not enough and Leo presses himself closer to the other man, utterly unable to stop himself when Cristiano’s hands fist in his shirt and begin to tug it out of Leo’s pants.

Leo should help, but he can’t, he can’t get enough of Cristiano’s mouth, doesn’t want to end the kiss until he has to. He just keeps thinking, “More, more, more.”

Despite that mantra, he breaks the kiss at the first touch of Cristiano’s hands on his bare skin, inhaling deeply while Cristiano’s fingers reverently skim over his sides and the small of his back. “Cristiano,” he says, already overwhelmed. He stares up at the other man through his lashes, shivering as Cristiano’s hands start to slide up his spine underneath his shirt. “I want—I want—,” he blurts out, his own hands fingering Cristiano’s collar.

Leo wants to return the favor, wants to see Cristiano’s golden skin underneath his hands.

For the first time, Cristiano looks entirely ruffled. “Yes,” he says hurriedly, reaching for his buttons. He pulls at the top few, finally tearing his shirt in his haste. He’s only halfway down his chest when he throws his hands up. “Fuck that,” he mutters, reaching for Leo again. His hands palm Leo’s ass, rolling and squeezing and then he groans. “Hold on,” he says, barely giving Leo any time to comply before he’s lifting Leo entirely.

Leo gasps, thighs now gripping Cristiano’s hips, supported only by Cristiano’s hands on his ass. He looks down at Cristiano in surprise. “How did you do that?” he asks, torn by being incredibly turned on but also incredibly impressed by Cristiano’s strength. He wraps his arms around Cristiano's neck.

“I can do anything,” Cristiano says, walking them back across the room. “But I can do it better upstairs,” he says, smirking as they approach the stairs. “Watch your head.”

Leo laughs, ducking to rest his face against Cristiano’s neck. He desperately wants to suck a little mark at the base of Cristiano’s throat, but he also doesn’t want both of them to fall down the stairs, so he restrains himself until they’re on the second floor and Cristiano doesn’t have to focus so much. And *then* he starts nibbling, and then really sucking and biting until he knows there’ll be a lovely purple mark for everyone to see.

“Marking your territory?” Cristiano asks, sounding amused as they continue down the hallway. He heaves Leo a little higher and then nudges a door open with his foot, having apparently reached his bedroom.

Leo huffs against Cristiano’s skin, nipping a bit harder as punishment. “I don’t share,” he says, raising his head up so he can look Cristiano in the eyes. He knows his cheeks are furiously red now, but there’s nothing he can do about it. “Do you?” he asks, just wanting to make sure that they’re on the same page.

They've only lightly touched on being exclusive during their dates, but he's pretty sure they both want the same thing.

And Cristiano confirms that instantly.

Cristiano smirks. “Never,” he says, coming to a stop by the bed. “Let go now,” he orders, and when Leo complies, he drops Leo onto his back. Leo bounces on the bed a few times, stretching his arms up above his head to get comfortable on the soft, black blanket underneath him. Cristiano merely watches hotly. “Look at you,” he says, eyes traveling down Leo’s body, pausing on the strip of skin revealed at Leo’s waist.

Leo tilts his head back, overwhelmed again. “Look at you,” he retorts half-heartedly, staring up at the ceiling and panting.

Cristiano laughs, stripping off his shirt and throwing it somewhere behind him. “Alright then,” he says. “Look at me.” And when Leo glances in his direction, Cristiano flexes, drawing attention to his biceps and toned stomach. “Like what you see?” Cristiano asks teasingly. He turns this way and that, rippling beautifully.

Leo swallows. “Oh, yes,” he admits freely, gazing at all of Cristiano’s lovely muscles. The other man looks truly delicious standing at the foot of the bed and bare to the waist. Leo’s truly enjoying the view when he notices the large photograph of Cristiano on the wall behind him. Admittedly it’s a nice picture, but it’s a little strange to have two Cristianos looking at him.

“Leo,” Cristiano calls petulantly, approaching the bed. “You weren’t looking at me,” he scolds, hands on his hips. He looks unsure for a moment. “Have you changed your mind? We don’t have to do anything…”

Leo sits up, scooting to the edge of the bed. “No, no,” he says spreading his legs so that Cristiano can stand between them. “I just got distracted by the other you,” he says, gesturing towards the picture on the wall. He flicks his eyes up to meet Cristiano’s and finds himself looking at another giant photo of Cristiano on the wall. “Oh, there’s more than one,” he says slowly.

Cristiano’s grin reappears. “Of course,” he says, waving a hand around the room. “There’s plenty,” he says shrugging. “From ad campaigns. But anyways, if you haven’t changed your mind…” He leans down and starts pulling at Leo’s shirt, tugging it over Leo’s head and tossing it to the floor. “I’d love to get back to you.”

Leo’s grin comes back and he leans back on his elbows. “Then get back to me,” he says, trying to sound sassy but probably just sounding ridiculous. It doesn’t really seem to matter, though, because Cristiano grabs Leo’s ankles and starts to pull off his shoes and socks.

“Cute,” Cristiano mutters, peeling off the blue and red striped socks he finds on Leo’s feet. “I didn’t know they made these for adults.” He runs his fingers up the bottom of Leo’s sole and tickles him.

Leo pulls his feet away instantly, scooting further up onto the center of the bed and unable to help the silly giggle that escapes.

Cristiano merely looks satisfied, toeing off his own shoes and reaching to pull off his plain black socks. Then his hands go to his waist and he unbuckles his belt, leaving the strip of leather in the loops while he pops the bottom and unzips his fly. He’s clearly aroused, letting out a sound of relief as the bulge in his briefs is given more room.

It looks obscene—his pants low on his hips, unzipped just enough to reveal the tight black briefs.

Leo’s mouth waters and he forces himself to focus on his own clothing. His hands are shaky as he undoes his own belt and starts fighting to pull off his pants, leg by leg. By the time he’s down to his briefs, Cristiano’s moved closer to him.

“Fuck,” Cristiano says, eyes darkening as he takes in Leo’s arousal. “Look at you,” he says again. “How are you this fucking hot.”

Leo feels the blush travel down his chest. “Can you—?” He palms himself, feeling his cock respond to Cristiano’s throaty voice. “Oh god,” he eventually says, closing his eyes. “Stop talking.” He tries not to shiver.

Cristiano laughs, but it’s a nice laugh. “What?” he asks. “You want me to lie? With you stretched out on my bed looking so sinful? Oh, gorgeous, it’s just not possible.”

Leo opens his eyes just in time to see Cristiano step out of his pants, leaving him in the tight black underwear. “Are you—,” Leo asks, having to swallow a few times to get his vocal cords to work. “Are you wearing CR7 briefs?” he asks, torn between finding it terribly funny and terribly arousing.

Cristiano snaps his waistband. “Course I am,” he says, thumb pointing to the CR7 written on the edge. “Only the best touches this body, baby.” He climbs onto the bed, walking on his hands and knees until he’s hovering over Leo. “Only the *very* best,” he says, slowly reaching out and taking Leo’s hands, one after the other, and bringing them to the back of his neck.

Leo clings to him eagerly, at first holding onto Cristiano’s neck and then moving his hands up into Cristiano’s hair. “Stop talking,” Leo says again, this time softly, feeling overwhelmed. He arches up against Cristiano’s body, tilting his head back. “Kiss me,” he begs.

Cristiano’s lips still taste like champagne.

“Mmmm,” Leo hums as Cristiano moves his lips down Leo’s neck, paying close attention to the soft skin beneath his ear. He starts moving his hips up against Cristiano’s thigh, unable to stay still, unable to keep from squirming. It's so hot and thick against him, muscles flexing nicely every time Leo makes contact.

But Cristiano doesn’t seem to mind if the sounds he makes are anything to go by.

So Leo starts to tug his hair, fingers curling into the dark strands gleefully. “Cristiano,” he says softly, gasping when Cristiano moves to nip at the base of his throat.

“Should I give you a mark to match?” Cristiano asks gruffly, scraping his teeth just hard enough to leave a scratch. “Should I give you something to make the boys in the locker room all jealous? Make them wonder who you’ve been spending your free time with?” He flicks his tongue out to soothe the skin and then flicks it out again as if he wants to taste more of Leo. “It’d be what you deserve after the hickey you left on me, wouldn’t it?” He sucks teasingly and then gently kisses the spot once more.

Leo shivers, his foot sliding down Cristiano’s calf. “Cristiano,” he says again, overcome with sensation, words escaping him completely. He wants to say that they already know—everybody already knows who he’s been dating—but the words just won’t come. His toes try to dig into Cristiano instead.

Cristiano smiles against Leo’s throat. “I always thought you’d be this responsive,” he says, sliding his lips down Leo’s chest, ignoring the way Leo’s pulling on his hair. He noses Leo’s nipple, breathing hotly over it. “You’re wound so tightly on the pitch…” He looks up at Leo mischievously and then darts his tongue out to twirl around the little, peaked bud.

Leo arches, all of the air forced out of his lungs.

Cristiano grins against Leo’s chest, leaning over Leo on one arm while holding him down with the other. His mouth starts to suck, tongue flicking back and forth, pulling off with a wet pop when Leo nearly shoves him off the bed. “Like that, do you?” he asks, switching arms. His fingers smooth over Leo’s glistening skin, thumb stroking lightly.

“I’ll tell you if I don’t,” Leo croaks, yanking Cristiano’s head down to his other nipple.

Cristiano’s grin doesn’t change, and he obliges, ducking his head to give the little, pebbled nipple a suck. “So tiny,” he mutters, raising his head to wink at Leo. Leo doesn’t have time to reply before Cristiano’s taking the nipple back into his mouth, nipping a bit with his teeth.

Leo makes another sound in his throat, starting to squeeze Cristiano’s ribcage with his thighs. “Oh, fuck,” he says, trying to push Cristiano’s face closer while at the same time trying to pull away. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Cristiano moans, the vibration traveling through Leo’s body. “That’s the idea,” he says, lifting his head. His lips are shiny. “So long as you don’t break my ribs.” He pulls back, sitting on his heels and dislodging Leo’s legs. Then he slides his hands over Leo’s calves, fingers trailing over Leo’s knees, coming to a pause midway up Leo’s thighs. He can’t quite grip them totally, his hands not nearly large enough, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. He merely looks down at the tanned skin of his fingers against Leo’s pale skin, seeming to enjoy the contrast. “It’d be quite a way to go, though, wouldn’t it…”

“My face is up here,” Leo pants out, trying to regain control. His head tips back the instant Cristiano’s gaze snaps towards his. “Stop ogling my legs,” he finishes timidly, looking at the ceiling, suddenly embarrassed.

Cristiano’s hands caress his legs again, smoothing up and down soothingly. “Not ogling,” he says, letting go of them and leaning down. His fingers turn Leo’s head to face him. His eyes are kind when Leo finally looks at him. “Just appreciating.” He doesn’t say anything else for a moment, fingers still lightly touching Leo’s jawline.

Leo feels his cheeks burning, but he nods slightly. Cristiano continues to stare at him, eyes searching Leo’s as if he’s looking for something. But whatever it is, Cristiano must find it, because his smile reappears.

“I’m very appreciative,” Cristiano says, thumb moving across Leo’s bottom lip. And when Leo parts his lips automatically, Cristiano dips his thumb inside for a second to touch the wetness. “Very, very appreciative of beautiful things,” Cristiano murmurs, barely touching Leo’s tongue before he’s drawing his thumb out and sliding it down Leo’s chin.

He draws a slow wet line down Leo’s chest, ending just before his belly button.

Leo shivers, unintentionally rubbing his hips against Cristiano’s. His fingers claw into the blankets, knowing otherwise he’ll claw into Cristiano’s back.

They’re both still dressed in their underwear, but with the surge of pleasure that motion sends through his body, he barely even notices. He rubs himself against Cristiano again and again, grinding until his underwear starts to get wet, precome beading at the tip of his cock. Cristiano doesn’t stop him, nipping down Leo’s chest, hissing slightly every time Leo moves. It’s only when Leo starts feeling the heat pool in his belly—his orgasm approaching—that Cristiano reaches between them to hold Leo down.

“How much more did you want?” Cristiano asks, eyes dark now, a flush painted across his own cheeks. His hand is tight on Leo’s hip, holding him down against the bed, ignoring the way Leo strains to keep moving. “Did you want to finish like this?” he asks, searching Leo’s face. “We could definitely do that,” he says, looking delighted by the idea. “Or?” he asks, hand sliding down Leo’s hip, fingers dipping underneath Leo’s waistband.

“Or what?” Leo whispers, licking his lips, trying to be cautious. He should be thinking again about how they still don’t know each other that well, how there is still so much more that they should talk about. But at the same time, they do know each other—they’ve known each other for years. Every look, every word, every touch has revealed something.

And in the moment, everything’s a blur, and all he can think is that he wants whatever Cristiano will give him.

Cristiano’s lips move soundlessly for a moment like he’s saying a prayer. “Or,” he finally says, letting his fingers tangle into the fabric like he could easily pull Leo’s briefs off. His grip tightens as they stare at each other, and there’s a second where Leo thinks Cristiano might rip the cloth right off his body. "Or, we continue."

Leo has to look away at the expression on Cristiano’s face, trying to catch his breath at the desire he sees there. “Yes,” Leo murmurs, his hands letting go of the blanket to rub his face, trying to hold himself together. He feels Cristiano let out a shaky breath, and then the other man pulls down his underwear. Leo lifts his hips obediently, feeling the damp fabric being dragged down his legs. He knows his cock is red and angry, leaking against his belly, and out of habit, he drops a hand to himself.

But Cristiano catches it, clucking his tongue.

“No, no,” Cristiano scolds, holding Leo’s hand down against the bed. “Don’t touch,” he orders, waiting to see if Leo will obey before he pulls down his own briefs.

But Leo obeys, groaning. “Hurry then,” he whispers, eager now, dragging his toes up Cristiano’s calf again. His cock twitches against his stomach, fully hard and aching. He’s rewarded with Cristiano muttering something under his breath, with the CR7s stripped off in a hurry.

They’re tossed somewhere on the floor.

And then they’re both nude, finally skin to skin, and Leo can’t help but curl his fingers into Cristiano’s hair. “I want you,” he confesses, arching up as Cristiano slides a leg between his thighs. “Please, Cristiano,” he murmurs, closing his eyes again, overwhelmed by the way Cristiano feels against him. He’s sweating all over Cristiano’s blankets, precome dripping down his belly, but he doesn’t care—all he can think about is wanting more.

Cristiano’s lips slide up Leo’s neck, moving to the soft skin beneath his ear. “I’ll give you what you want,” he says, lips nibbling and sucking, dropping a line of kisses before he brushes his mouth against the lobe. “Whatever you want,” he promises, hot breath making Leo shiver. His hand is hot on Leo’s hip, sliding downwards slowly and deliberately.

Leo spreads his legs in expectation, sighing in disappointment as the hand neglects his cock entirely. Instead, Cristiano’s fingers grasp his thigh, pushing it up and to the side of the bed, baring Leo’s most private parts to his gaze.

“Stay like this,” Cristiano murmurs, waiting for Leo’s nod before his hand caresses Leo’s inner thigh. His fingers draw lines and swirls, almost as if he’s writing some secret message.

And Leo’s just about had enough of it, but then Cristiano’s thumb strokes over his entrance. “Oh!” Leo gasps, expecting it, but not expecting it, pulling on Cristiano’s hair in excitement. “Mother fucker,” he spits out without meaning to, heel digging into the bed.

"Mother fucker," Cristiano repeats, sounding amused as he repeats his actions. "That's cute." He slows down his thumb until it's maddening, tracing Leo's entrance as if he's in no hurry. "But I'm sorry, that's my pet name for you, as you know. So I think you're going to have to come up with something else. We can't both be called mother fucker, it just wouldn't work. Would it?“

Leo's barely coherent, toes curling, fingers grabbing at whatever he can while he works on getting air into his lungs. "What? What? What the hell are you even saying?" he pants, groaning and arching into Cristiano's touch. All he knows is that he's slowly losing his mind. He can't concentrate on anything except that finger.

And Cristiano knows it.

"Please," Leo finally says, gritting it out as Cristiano begins to circle anew. “Please, Cristiano!"

At that, Cristiano leans over to the bedside table and finds the lube and condoms.

“Alright,” he says. “Enough teasing. For now. But only because I can’t stand it anymore either. Just looking at you,” he murmurs, coating his fingers. “I should have asked you out ages ago. We could have been doing this for months, for years—back when we were young and had that terrible hair.” His fingers are slick when they return to Leo and begin circling again. This time there isn’t nearly as much teasing, and the gentle circling turns into pressure.

“Who had terrible hair?” Leo murmurs, still unable to really think coherently. “Me or you?” He’s unable to say anything else. His thighs try to pull Cristiano closer, aching for more.

“Oh,” Cristiano says, half groaning to himself as he slides in a wet finger. “Both of us… But yours—I always wanted to thread my fingers through it, see how you took it.”

Leo whines. “Cristiano!”

“I love the way you say my name,” Cristiano whispers, licking his lips, “but I love the way you feel around me even more.” He inches closer to Leo, practically bouncing on his heels as he lets Leo urge him on. “You’re so fucking hot, so fucking tight,” he says, pulling his finger almost all the way back before pushing into Leo’s velvety heat again.

Leo hisses, “Shut up, shut up!” Between Cristiano’s touch and his voice, he feels like he might come right there and then. He stares up at the ceiling in an attempt to control himself, desperately needing to count ceiling tiles or something as a distraction. He’s up to seven before he notices he’s not counting tiles, but little gold monogrammed letters. “Is that?” he croaks out, gasping as Cristiano adds a second finger.

“What?” Cristiano asks, unfocused, paying more attention to where his two fingers are than to what Leo’s actually saying. “Fuck,” he says as he begins to pick up a rhythm. It’s a long slow in and out, eased by the wetness of the lube, and he’s pressing deeper and deeper until his fingers are in up to the knuckles. “What?” he asks again, still not really listening.

Leo’s squirming and groaning and still staring at the ceiling, because he knows if he looks at Cristiano he’ll come all over his belly. “Nothing,” he pants out, deciding his eyes are playing tricks on him. He has to close them anyways as Cristiano starts to pick up speed, pleasure curling in his stomach. “If you—,” he says, biting his lip to hold back another moan, “if you keep doing that…” He trails off knowing that Cristiano will understand.

Cristiano’s fingers begin to scissor. “Oh, that wouldn’t be so bad,” he says, and Leo can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Cristiano!” Leo begs. He opens his eyes and stares up at Cristiano. “I said I wanted… more.” Leo leans up slightly, parting his lips to try to entice Cristiano closer. “Don’t you want more, too?” he asks, licking his lips again. His foot slides over Cristiano’s leg, hooking around one of his thighs, pressing into his ass to pull him closer.

And he's rewarded.

Cristiano sways forward toward him, seizing his mouth without delay. He keeps stretching Leo as they kiss, swallowing all of Leo’s whimpers and moans and gasps as his fingers scissor. “I’ll have more,” he promises, breaking the kiss to breathe, hovering over Leo’s mouth.

Leo can only stare up at him, completely wrecked, lips plump and bruised.

Cristiano’s mouth turns up into a smile before he dives down to kiss Leo again, kissing like he wants to take him apart, a mixture of lips and teeth and tongue, coaxing Leo into it more and more until Leo can’t even remember why he was protesting or what he was asking for. And then Cristiano’s questing fingers press against a spot deep inside Leo, and Leo nearly shoots off the bed.

“There it is!” Cristiano says gleefully, ignoring the way Leo’s nails are trying to dig into his shoulder. He prods it again and again and until Leo’s vision almost whites out and he’s gasping in warning. Only then, when Leo’s shaking and begging, does he ease his fingers out, slowly, gently, feeling Leo’s body cling to him in response. “More, Leo, more,” Cristiano reminds him, wiping his hand on the sheets and reaching for the condom.

Leo closes his eyes, trying to breathe, hand sliding down his chest to thumb his own nipple. It’s tight and aches, just like the rest of him, and he shifts restlessly before inching his hand down his stomach to touch his cock. “More,” he whispers in agreement, thighs falling open as Cristiano finishes.

“No, no,” Cristiano says instantly, seeing Leo’s hand inching toward his cock. He links their fingers together as Leo whines in protest. He raises their hands over Leo’s head, pinning him to the bed with his hips. Leo’s cock is trapped between them and the pressure makes him writhe. “How do you want it?” he asks, slowly grinding against Leo. “Like this? On your belly?”

Leo groans, and can only think when Cristiano stops moving enough to let him respond. And still, all he can say is, “I don’t know.”

Cristiano laughs, raising up on his knees and sitting back on his heels. His cock is jutting out between his legs proudly. “Turn over then,” he urges, hands sliding off of Leo’s arms and thighs, turning Leo until he’s facing the headboard and a giant mound of pillows. “Ah, there we go, isn’t that lovely.”

Leo hangs his head, feeling Cristiano’s hands palm his ass. He closes his eyes and tries not to move as Cristiano shifts closer to him and presses a kiss at the base of his spine. He can’t help shivering as those lips move up and up, dropping kisses up his backbone, over his shoulders, on his neck, under his ears. "You're lovely," he retorts half-heartedly, wondering if it really sounds like an insult.

“All good things,” Cristiano murmurs, breath hot against Leo’s skin. He noses at Leo’s ears, lips brushing the lobes. “I want you to feel all good things,” he repeats, teeth grazing the edge and tongue sucking slightly. “You tell me,” he says, pulling off with a pop and draping his body completely over Leo’s.

He’s heavy, and Leo can feel Cristiano’s cock burning against the small of his back, tantalizingly close to his ass. The two of them shift on the bed, knees nearly sliding on the blanket.

“You tell me,” Cristiano repeats. “If it’s not working—if it’s not good for you.” His voice is firm, leaving no room for argument. “If the angle’s off, if I need to slow down, if it’s too much. You tell me.” And it’s firm but it’s sweet, and it’s clear he could never continue otherwise. He wants what will make Leo feel best, and anything less than that is unacceptable.

Leo opens his eyes, wanting to see Cristiano’s face. “Yes,” he agrees, turning his head to do so. And what he sees makes him catch Cristiano’s lips. This time the kiss is soft, and Leo flicks his tongue out to tease, wanting more. But Cristiano refuses to play, keeps it gentle and light, pulling away to kiss Leo’s neck again and Leo laughs. “I’ll tell you,” Leo promises, catching Cristiano’s gaze.

Cristiano smiles, for a second just looking so unbelievably happy that Leo doesn’t ever want to move from this spot.

And then Cristiano moves his hips again and Leo falls forward, gasping.

“You, you, fucker,” Leo groans, hearing Cristiano laugh behind him. And then there are hands on his hips, palms on his ass, fingers gently touching his inner thighs and urging his legs wider. Leo rocks forward, bracing himself on his hands and knees, arching his back in anticipation. He can hear the rip of the condom, click of the cap on the lube, the squishing sound of Cristiano slicking himself up again.

The waiting is excruciating.

But Cristiano talks through it, as always, crooning and praising Leo—talking about how good it’s going to be, how good Leo’s going to feel.

Leo groans at his voice again, clenching his hands in the blankets, half dazed but reveling in the softness. He looks down, only partially paying attention to how the dark fabric contrasts against his skin. Like everything of Cristiano’s, it’s beautiful and luxurious, and Leo can see there’s writing on it, but it’s mostly blocked by their bodies. He’s distracted as Cristiano’s hand grips his hip, because now there’s something better to pay attention to.

“You ready?” Cristiano asks, a tremor in his voice showing that he’s just as excited as Leo is. His fingers are curving around Leo’s hip like they were created for it, thumb resting on the slope of Leo’s ass. “Leo?”

“Yes,” Leo breathes, licking his lips and raising his head again. As Cristiano presses in, he takes a deep breath, holding it in at that slow, intense pressure until finally he can’t take it anymore and his lungs explode. “Ohhhhh!” he gasps, squeezing his eyes shut. The ache is exactly what he’s wanted, the fullness stretching him more and more until he’s not sure he can take it—and still he *wants* it, arches to meet Cristiano, forces himself not to do anything more until Cristiano bottoms out.

They’re both breathing shakily then, Cristiano cursing quietly as he molds himself to Leo—this time fully sheathed inside of him. “Yes?” Cristiano asks, louder than he means to, having lost some control, the word shattering the silence. He feels like a furnace next to Leo, their skin sticking together wetly now, lube dripping down their thighs and making a mess of the bed. “Tell me when,” Cristiano continues, grunting with the effort of staying still.

Leo waits for his body to catch up with the rest of him, fingers grabbing at the blanket underneath him again, lips falling open as he adjusts. There’s some pain, yes, but not the wrong kind, and he knows that the second Cristiano moves it’ll all disappear. He opens his eyes and focuses on breathing, slowly in and then slowly out, slowly in and slowly out, in and out, in, out.

“Leo,” Cristiano groans, pressing his lips to the middle of Leo’s back. He rests his head there, fingers still hot on Leo’s hips like they're never leaving. “You feel so good,” he whispers, rubbing his face against Leo’s skin. “So good,” he repeats breathlessly, his normal vocabulary deserting him as he leaves kisses wherever he touches.

Leo’s lashes flutter as he slowly shifts on the bed. The movement makes Cristiano groan, but still, he doesn’t react. Leo tilts his head back, arching then, dislodging Cristiano’s head. “More,” he says, knowing he doesn’t have to say anything else. He plants his hands firmly on the bed, spreads his legs as wide as they can go, and he braces himself.

Cristiano’s excitement is barely containable, but still, he’s careful. One of his hands slides to Leo’s belly, fingers spread to gently cradle his body, while the other hand slides up to rest on the back of Leo’s neck. “More,” he agrees, then straightening up. His hips start to move, first slowly and then a little harder, rocking into Leo with more and more force. There’s no real talking then, just gasping and groaning, the sound of Cristiano’s hips slapping against Leo’s ass spurring them on and on again.

They’re moving forward on the bed too, Leo’s legs sliding on the blankets until his face is nearly mashed into a pillowcase with a giant CR7 on it. Leo wants to laugh, the whole thing suddenly hilarious—Cristiano’s bedroom is decorated entirely in CR7 memorabilia with giant pictures of himself on the walls—like Cristiano needs to be surrounded by himself at all times. A giggle’s rising up in his throat, the CR7 pillowcase flashing in front of his eyes, but then Cristiano moves again. Leo doesn’t have enough time to even laugh before he’s focusing on trying to hold himself up, Cristiano’s thrusts gaining speed and power.

It’s all achingly good.

And then Cristiano finds that little spot that makes Leo see stars.

“There, there, there!” Leo pants desperately, limbs trembling, sweat dripping down his forehead. He knows how he sounds, wants to hold back, wants to hold himself together a little more. But it’s so good, so hot, so perfect, and he can only rock back to meet Cristiano with every part of him straining to hold himself up. “Oh, fuck!”

Cristiano’s hands are bruising on Leo’s hips, and were his nails any longer he’d be leaving little crescent-shaped marks. But he’s too lost to even make fun of Leo’s cursing. “I know,” he says, voice rough and throaty, gruff from his own moans. “I got you,” he says, aiming over and over where Leo will feel the most pleasure. “Stay with me.”

One of his hands goes to Leo's neck, pushing him down slightly. At the same time, his knee nudges Leo's thighs even wider, just ever so slightly changing the angle.

For the better.

Leo wonders if the neighbors can hear him scream.

Because that's all he's doing, as Cristiano thrusts over and over, hitting that perfect spot over and over until Leo's vision whites out and all he can do is tremble. He spills all over the blankets underneath him, arms and legs weakening until he's nearly flat on the bed with Cristiano trying to hold him up. And he can't help the way he tightens around Cristiano's cock, but he does, and Cristiano curses, coming at the same time and collapsing on top of him.

Leo comes back to himself only when he has to breathe, turning his face to the side so he's not suffocating himself in the pillows. Cristiano's still on top of him, still inside him, a hand threaded in Leo's hair while the other is slowly moving over Leo's hip. They're both a mess, but neither can spare a moment to care. Leo takes a long, shuddering breath, trying to recover, the beating of his heart so loud he's sure Cristiano can still hear it.

Maybe Cristiano does, because the other man starts to disentangle himself, pulling out gently and disposing of the condom somewhere over the side of the bed. Leo doesn't have the strength to move, closes his eyes and rests his head against the pillow, letting himself come down from his high. He doesn't know how Cristiano has the energy, because soon he finds that he's being maneuvered off the dirty blanket underneath them and into the sheets. His eyes flutter open wearily, but he smiles at Cristiano's dark head above him.

"Good?" Cristiano asks, a smile playing around his lips. His hand hovers over Leo's head for a moment, before brushing some of the hair away from Leo's forehead.

Leo's cheeks are beyond red, but they flush even more at the gesture. "Good," he echoes, looking up at the ceiling again. Cristiano's initials twinkled down at him and the laughter starts to bubble in Leo's throat again. His eyes flick to meet Cristiano's. "Did you just fuck me on a blanket that says CR7?" he asks, already knowing the answer.

Cristiano grins. "I told you," he says, dropping down to gently kiss Leo once more. "Only the best touches this body." He takes his time, sucking on Leo's lips, taking tiny sips of him until they're both drowsy and content. "What? Didn't you like it? They're pretty soft I think," he says teasingly. "I bet your knees are thanking you."

“Ass," Leo murmurs, smiling into Cristiano’s neck as Cristiano pulls the sheets up over them. They’re still sweating, but it’s starting to get chilly now as their body temperature starts to drop and Leo snuggles closer. “But, it was pretty nice actually... Any idea where I could get one of them?”

Cristiano just laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> I went a different direction with Cristiano's kink lol... Hope you all enjoyed--hope this makes up for me not having more fics finished this week.


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